


put him in the back of a squad car (restrain that man)

by gothfob



Category: Bandom, Fall Out Boy
Genre: Blow Jobs, Dry Humping, Flirting, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Humor, Kissing, M/M, joe is all for it, patrick is a rookie cop, pete is a criminal, theres sexual tension
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-06
Updated: 2020-12-06
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:00:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,808
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27924163
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gothfob/pseuds/gothfob
Summary: Patrick is a rookie. So he’s like a baby deer just learning how to walk on wobbly legs. He’s not a bad cop, or anything. He knows what he’s supposed to do, in theory. Real world practice is much different. Harder. That’s not his fault. He’s just a man. The point is he’s trying, and he really isn’t too keen on getting fired.He gets a call about a guy vandalizing someone’s private property. Not only with spray paint, but with piss. Patrick assumes the dude is probably drunk, and angry at someone. He’s finally on his own, so he nervously gets into his car and blasts David Bowie until he reaches the right place.He pulls up to a fancy house in the suburbs, so fancy that it has a huge gate that’s security system protected. The man stands in front of him, a can of red spray paint in his hands. His back is to Patrick, so all he can see is that the man has long, dark hair and is dressed in very tight black jeans. So tight they look painted on.Or the one where Patrick is a cop and Pete's a criminal. A meet ugly turned into a meet cute.
Relationships: Patrick Stump/Pete Wentz
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	put him in the back of a squad car (restrain that man)

Patrick is a rookie. So he’s like a baby deer just learning how to walk on wobbly legs. He’s not a bad cop, or anything. He knows what he’s supposed to do, in theory. Real world practice is much different. Harder. That’s not his fault. He’s just a man. The point is he’s trying, and he really isn’t too keen on getting fired. 

He gets a call about a guy vandalizing someone’s private property. Not only with spray paint, but with piss. Patrick assumes the dude is probably drunk, and angry at someone. He’s finally on his own, so he nervously gets into his car and blasts David Bowie until he reaches the right place. 

He pulls up to a fancy house in the suburbs, so fancy that it has a huge gate that’s security system protected. The man stands in front of him, a can of red spray paint in his hands. His back is to Patrick, so all he can see is that the man has long, dark hair and is dressed in very tight black jeans. So tight they look painted on. 

Patrick can make out the words _‘LYING, CHEATING, NO GOOD MANWHORE’_ written in red across the gate in all caps. There’s also a frowny face with x’s for eyes. It smells vaguely like piss. 

Whoever lives at the house must not be home, because he doesn’t hear any yelling. Patrick takes a couple steps forward and clears his throat loudly. 

The man shakes the can of spray paint and whips around, trying to look threatening. He falls short. Patrick gives him a once over, trying not to let his gaze linger.

But this man is absolutely breathtaking. His amber eyes shine in the sunlight, his bangs falling into his face artfully. His jawline is perfectly carved, his mouth wide and mesmerizing. He’s thin, only a little bit taller than Patrick. 

Patrick takes all of this in and swallows hard. Pretty Boy squints at the badge on his chest and then proceeds to grin, all sharp canines and charm. 

Pretty Boy steps closer until he can make out Patrick’s name tag. He looks down at Patrick through his eyelashes, long and dark. Patrick realizes he’s wearing eyeliner, and desperately tries to quell the desire bubbling in his gut. 

“Patrick,” Pretty Boy simpers. “Officer. What do I have to do so you can pretend this never happened?” 

Patrick can’t help but scoff at that. 

“I’m afraid there’s nothing you can do, sir. I have to take you to the station.” Patrick tries to sound commanding. It doesn’t really work. 

“Sir sounds so stuffy and impersonal. Pete is fine.” Pete purrs, placing a hand on Patrick’s chest as if to say _I’m the one who’s in charge here._

“Pete,” Patrick says under his breath. Why does that name sound so familiar? Wait a second. “Pete as in Pete Wentz?” Patrick splutters. 

“The one and only. My reputation precedes me.” Pete smiles, bowing in a very exaggerated way. 

“You’re the one my coworkers always complain about. You get brought into the station like, once a month. Christ.” Patrick sighs.

Of course, his first arrest on his own has to be this difficult asshole. He’s never met Pete before, has only seen him dragged in and out of the station. He’s heard about every crime the man has commited, and somehow, that sense of danger just makes Patrick more attracted to him. He’s so fucked.

They’ve all been minor infractions, petty theft, vandalism, a case of what Pete called “accidental” arson, and public intoxication. From what Patrick can tell, Pete can talk his way out of pretty much anything. Which is why Patrick is in deep shit. 

“I do. And yet, I’m not in jail.” Pete laughs, spreading his arms out to demonstrate his freedom. Mostly, he just looks smug. 

“You’re about to be, if I have anything to say about it.” Patrick glares, reaching for the handcuffs looped through his belt. 

“Oooh, he’s feisty. I love it.” Pete smirks. “If you wanna arrest me, Officer, you’re gonna have to get behind me and restrain me. I won’t go without putting up a fight first.” Patrick rolls his eyes, but he gets behind Pete and tries to grasp both of his wrists. 

Pete drops the can of spray paint and pulls against his hold as hard as he can. They both go sprawling onto the pavement. Luckily, Pete breaks Patrick’s fall. 

Pete is not so fortunate, and groans. 

“That’s what you get.” Patrick smiles. Pete shoves him off and gets to his feet. 

“Don’t get cocky.” Pete looks irritated. “Just put the cuffs on me and put me in the back. I’ve always wanted to have sex in the back of a squad car.” The force of Pete’s grin makes his eyes crinkle attractively. 

Patrick blushes, unable to form words for a moment. He gets behind Pete again and manages to put the cuffs on him without incident this time. 

He pushes Pete towards the car, reading his Miranda rights, because that’s protocol. 

“Anything you say can and will be held against you-” Pete doesn’t let him finish. Patrick is opening up the car door and preparing to help Pete inside when he interjects. 

“Patrick.” Pete smirks, and he waits. It takes Patrick’s brain a moment to catch up, and then he assumes he must be hallucinating, so he goes:

“Excuse me?” Patrick’s face is so red it can probably be seen from outer space. 

“Anything I say can and will be held against me, so if I just say your name, will you hold it against me?” Pete looks predatory, like he has Patrick right where he wants him. 

“Fucking hell.” Patrick blinks hard, and realizes this is, in fact, not a dream. “Propositioning an officer to get out of trouble is also illegal, just so you know. It’s sexual harassment.” Patrick says, trying to regain control. It backfires spectacularly. 

“Oh, come on. I see the way you’re looking at me. You want it, too. You want _me._ I’m just hoping you’ll hold up your end of the deal and follow through, Patrick.” Pete looks at him with his hot whiskey eyes and Patrick almost folds.

Instead, he gapes at Pete for a minute before getting back his motor control and brain function. 

“Get in the back of the goddamn car and shut up.” Patrick growls.

xxx

Joe looks very amused at the scene Patrick and Pete are making. Patrick needs better friends. 

Patrick is trying to book Pete, get all the paperwork done and fingerprint him, you know, the usual. He just wishes Pete would stop fighting him every step of the way. 

Pete won’t be quiet long enough for Patrick to concentrate on writing the report. He won’t stop complaining about the ink staining his fingers, or how uncomfortable the cuffs are because they’re on too tight. 

Patrick slams his hands on his desk and hisses “ _Stop!_ God, what are you, a child?” It comes out a lot louder than he intended it to. 

Pete laughs, finally getting a rise out of Patrick just like he wanted. 

“I don’t call myself Peter Pan for nothing.” Pete shrugs. 

“I can’t believe this shit.” Patrick grumbles. He meets Joe’s eyes across the station and widens his own, a cry for help. Joe comes over to his desk and gives Pete a nod. 

Patrick is baffled by this. “You know him?” Patrick asks Joe. 

“I’ve arrested him before, yes. He’s a nice guy. Just a pain in the ass.” Joe shares a knowing look with Pete. Patrick doesn’t like this at all. 

“Can you help me? Give me advice or something?” Patrick whines. 

“Pete and I are friends. Whatever is going on between the two of you is...different. I’d say take him to the interrogation room and maybe then he’ll be more _cooperative._ ” Joe looks downright devious. Patrick is worried about this plan, but he doesn’t have another one. 

“Okay. I’m not sure what you’re inferring but I can do that.” Patrick says, slowly, his eyebrows furrowed in confusion. Pete looks gleeful, and stands up to be lead into the interrogation room. 

Patrick sits across the table from Pete and tries to figure out how he’s going to make this process smoother. 

“What is it that you want from me in order to make this easy?” Patrick finally asks, threading his fingers together on the table. 

“Simple. You know exactly what I want.” Pete blinks coquettishly. 

“Why do you want me so desperately?” Patrick asks, genuinely confused how someone like Pete could desire someone like him. 

“The cops who usually arrest me aren’t nearly as pretty, intelligent, or easily flustered as you are. You’re special, Rick. I knew as soon as I laid my eyes on you.” Patrick blushes profusely at this declaration. 

“I’m not special,” Patrick shakes his head. “You must be mistaken. You don’t want me, trust me.” Patrick frowns. 

“Whoever told you that, they’re wrong. _You’re_ wrong, Patrick. You can’t see it, but I can. I’ve dated a lot of douchebags. Earlier being a great example. My ex boyfriend was married to a woman and he had children I didn’t know about. What I did was illegal, sure, but he deserves to feel ashamed. His wife deserves to know what kind of person he is. I don’t regret doing it.” Pete is gravely honest. Patrick admires him for it. 

“Thank you for telling me all of that. And I’m sorry.” Patrick sympathizes. “But this is my job, Pete. I’d like to keep it. Which means I have to arrest you.” Patrick sighs. 

“I know,” Pete nods. “I’ll let you. I just needed you to know why I did it. And how much I want you because you are extraordinary, Patrick. I’ve only known you for a couple of hours and I already feel this connection between us. I wanted to see if you felt it too, or if I was going crazy.” 

Patrick bites his lip, contemplating his answer. 

“You’re not crazy. You’re kind of an asshole, and a criminal, but against my better judgement, I am hopelessly drawn to you. God, do I want you. So badly it’s almost painful.” Patrick finally admits. It feels good to say it. Pete smiles, wide and full of sunshine. 

  
  


“I’m so relieved to hear you say that. I had Joe turn off the security cameras in this room.” Pete replies.

Patrick doesn’t understand how those two sentences correlate, not until Pete stands up and makes his way over to Patrick. Pete turns his back and Patrick takes off the cuffs without a word. 

Pete falls into Patrick’s lap gracefully, wrapping his arms around Patrick’s neck. Patrick kisses him. He can’t resist, the pull between them has become too strong. 

Patrick lets it consume him, kisses Pete fiercely until they’re both breathless. Pete’s hands find their way into his hair, running his fingers through it.

When they pull back for air, Pete rests his forehead against Patrick’s and smiles in a way Patrick has never seen before. Patrick will realize later this is Pete’s smile just for him. No one has ever looked at him the way Pete is looking at him right now. 

Patrick manages to unbutton Pete’s shirt before he falls to his knees between Patrick’s thighs. Pete is a vision, toned chest and abs on display, dark ink peeking out from behind his red and black flannel. Patrick feels like he’s won the lottery. 

Pete unzips his dress pants and lets them pool around his ankles. Patrick sets his gun and his badge on the table. Patrick spreads his legs as wide as they’ll go, and his underwear hit the floor next. His dick stands at attention, fully hard just from the anticipation of this. 

Pete places biting kisses to Patrick’s inner thighs, making him squirm. His hands grip Patrick’s legs tightly as he licks at the head of Patrick’s cock. Patrick gasps, throwing his head back as Pete takes him further inside his mouth. 

Patrick holds onto the back of Pete’s neck gently, not pushing or pulling, just needing something to ground him so he doesn’t float away. 

Pete swirls his tongue, bobs his head at just the right pace. It’s as if he knows what Patrick likes without having to ask.

Pete sucks hard, his cheeks hollowing and making him look even more obscene. Patrick whimpers, and he’d be embarrassed, but it feels so good he can’t seem to stop.

He starts to move his hips, to thrust into Pete’s mouth. 

“Fuck, yeah, don’t stop, that’s it.” Patrick moans. He feels the pleasure building in his stomach, white hot and so close.

Patrick feels his cock hit the back of Pete’s throat, and he loses it. Patrick squeezes the back of Pete’s neck as he comes in his mouth, thick spurts as his dick twitches and Pete’s tongue laps it up hungrily. 

The aftershocks going through his body make him shiver. When Pete pulls off, Patrick grins at him, sex stupid and satisfied. 

“You’re amazing.” Patrick thinks there must be hearts in his eyes. 

“I try.” Pete smirks, and gets to his feet. He brushes off his jeans, and Patrick remembers that he wants to make Pete feel as good as he just made Patrick feel. 

Patrick takes off his boots, kicks off his pants and his underwear, and then tells Pete to drop his own. Pete obeys, immediately unbuckling his studded belt and peeling his jeans and boxers off his legs. 

Patrick pushes Pete back until he hits the wall, caging him in with his arms and pinning him against the wall. Patrick slides Pete’s shirt off his shoulders so it falls just around his arms.

He wants to get a proper look at Pete’s body. He’s beautiful, tawny colored skin glistening with sweat. Patrick runs his fingers down Pete’s chest and stomach, trails back up to tweak one of his nipples. 

Pete whines, pushing into Patrick’s touch. Patrick grips him by his sharp hip bones and starts to slide their cocks together. Patrick has gone soft, so he’s a little overstimulated, but he thinks that won’t matter soon. With someone like Pete, Patrick feels like he could go again within minutes. 

Pete arches against him, rubbing his dick against Patrick’s thigh, his belly, whatever he can. Patrick reaches down between them and grabs both of their dicks in one hand, stroking them off quickly. 

Pete wails at this, and Patrick has to kiss him again. Pete bites his bottom lip and pulls hard. Patrick slows his pace down, savoring the feeling of Pete’s cock in his hand, rubbing against his own. 

Patrick nuzzles Pete, sucks a hickey into his neck and twists his wrist just right. Pete cries out, and he comes between them when Patrick pulls his hair with his free hand.

Pete looks incredible when he comes, his face scrunched up in ecstasy and his dick covering their bellies and Patrick’s shirt in come. He shakes against Patrick as he comes down, and when he opens his eyes, he gives Patrick that look again. 

To Patrick, it’s unreadable in this moment. All he knows is it makes him feel warm and fuzzy. 

When they pull apart, they get dressed haphazardly, and he has to ask Pete to go get him a new shirt from his locker.

Once Patrick is dressed, and he fixes his hair, he has to put the cuffs back on Pete. He feels bad about it, but Pete promised. He’ll probably get off relatively easy, like he always does, but at least Patrick won’t be fired. 

“It’s okay, baby. I’ve done this before. Don’t worry about me. I’l see ya on the other side.” Pete pecks him on the lips, and Patrick leads him back out into the station.

xxx

Six months later, Patrick finds himself living in an apartment with Pete Wentz, known criminal. He’s mostly reformed now, though, he swears. He lives with a cop, so he has to clean up his act. 

Pete is making him breakfast, and when he hands over Patrick’s plate of pancakes and bacon, he gives Patrick that look again.

Patrick finally understands what it means. It’s true love. Pete is in love with him, so much so that he can’t seem to contain it and he has to look at him with melted chocolate eyes and that stupid Wentzian grin. Patrick looks back at him the same way, he can’t help it. 

When they tell the story of how they first met to their children (minus some of the dirty details, of course) well, it’s pretty hilarious. They get a kick out of it. Patrick wouldn’t have it any other way. Pete is the love of his life. He can’t imagine building his life with anyone else.

**Author's Note:**

> hi friends! im back. it feels good to be writing again. sorry for being MIA. work is kicking my ass. this fic is for my lovely girlfriend, so i hope she enjoys it! inspired by the lyrics from just one yesterday, of course. 
> 
> title taken from disloyal order by fob. 
> 
> come talk to me on tumblr @gothfob :)


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